


Breaking Protocol

by savaged



Category: Regular Show
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, making out under the park's starry night, while mr. maellard freaks out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-30
Updated: 2014-07-30
Packaged: 2018-02-11 00:35:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2046300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savaged/pseuds/savaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mr. Maellard has come for the night and they choose a hidden spot of the park to cuddle and smoke pot.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Breaking Protocol

Mordecai's leaning on the porch with his chin lying on his fist as he watches the sunset. Inside, Skips helps Thomas in the kitchen to prepare food for tonight; Muscle Man and Fives watch Wrestling Night on TV, cheering for a mexican-looking fighter as Pops tags boxes of stuff in the garage.

Benson's back arches as he pushes dry leaves off the path where the cars park by. Amounts of orange and brown dead leaves that took the whole afternoon to pile up, and the gumball machine sighs and whistles when he glances at his work done. So does he turn around, and catches Mordecai staring back from the house biting his lower lip, focused not in the leaves but his eyes, and both eyes suddenly meet in a frozen instant of time. Mordecai smiles, loosens up, and raises a thumb. He's a friendly employee, after all.

"Get down here and do your goddamn work!" Benson sweeps the sweat off his forehead with a forearm. "How many times do I have to ask you to sweep the damn leaves before Mister Maellard comes, huh!?"

The blue jay smirks, stands up and starts strolling down the white stairways of the house's entrance enjoying the last rays of sun. He reaches Benson's spot and folds his arms, raising his chin up. "You don't give a fuck about Mr. Maellard, do you."

"What's wrong with you? He's my boss. _Your_  boss. If he's not pleased with the Park's management I'm _screwed_. You two- Wait, where's Rigby?"

"Showering."

Benson looks down at his wrist watch, grimacing. He growls. "I told you two to leave the house prepared at nine o'clock and you can't even do that! I just- ah, look," the boss pinches his brow getting red, "Mordecai, I usually consider firing you both without a warning. You know why I haven't done that yet, right?"

Mordecai smirks and nods once. His eyes are half closed, the sun starts to sink down slowly in the horizon.

"Good. Now get back to work."

With words unspoken, Benson turns and starts to walk in the opposite direction. He never says much to him or makes a scene when there's no people around, one of the many reasons Mordecai suspects of his boss being shy whenever they're alone together. He quickly changes his mind remembering the colorful bag he has hidden under the pillow of his room, so as to Rigby won't find about it until later.

"Hey, Benson?"

The machine stops chewing on his lower lip. He doesn't face back. "What?"

"I've got some extra fun stuff from last weekend's. Want to share some?"

Benson turns, an unreadable expression that slowly turns into somewhat soothed. He raises his eyebrows and brings a hand to his globe. "Mordecai, I... I mean, not now. No."

"I was talking about later, when Maellard isn't freaking out about the shelling parts of the kitchen's wallpaper or whatever?"

Benson sighs sharply, swallowing hard. "Fine, Mordecai. Goddammit... Just go away, I'll take care of this."

The blue jay chuckles going back to the house as Benson kicks a stone in his way to the entrance of the Park, a smirk fighting to show up, tension present in his shoulders as always. Aye, he'd relax tonight at least -Benson always did when Mordecai asked nicely enough.

-

"Rigby" Mordecai sits across the room, his best friend wrapped in a towel that goes from his waist to his knees. "I need a solid."

"Aw, man! This was MY time to ask for a solid!" he violently pushes a finger to his own chest and pokes. "Common!"

"Dude, I just really need this favor."

The little man pouts folding his arms quickly. The towel around his waist falls, and he doesn't worry about getting down to fix it. "Fine. Five solids if I do it."

"Two."

"Three."

"Deal" Mordecai smiles. "Alright. Here's the thing..." he whispers into Rigby's ear until the raccoon steps back hastily, widening his eyes.

"What about me? Why are you choosing Benson?"

"Sorry, dude, but he stresses so much when the old man comes, y'know?"

"Pftt, nothing he can't handle!"

"Look, you're gonna help me or not? Maybe he'll even give us a raise." Mordecai suggestively raises an eyebrow taking out the bag of what looks like candy colored weeds and such, and waves it in front of Rigby like it's the new video game box they both have been expecting for months. Rigby's eyes get trapped in the constant movement of it and slowly starts to nod his head in agreement. His lips follow, trying to force doubt's zipper open.

"Mmmhh-kay. Fine. Three solids ahead."

-

He looks down at his watch, uneasy, tapping a foot steadily on the ground, humming, glancing right and left. No sign of them. Only night and darkness surrounding the gumball machine.

The lights of a white limo lightens the path of the Park's entrance, wheels rolling on gravel making that slight cracking noise of stones being crushed. Benson can't see the chauffeur's face by the black car's window; he holds his breath when the vehicle parks in front of him. He feels as if he's about to be kidnapped.

"Good evening, mister Maellard."

"Beancan" the old face squints as he gets out of the limousine. The man immediately looks for the rest of a non present staff. "Where are my employees?"

"Actually, sir, they're-"

"Beancan!"

Benson stiffens. The bicentennial owner of the Park frowns upon him tightening a red old scarf around the loose layers of skin around his neck. "Where the HECK are my employees!? I give you ONE minute to explain yourself, young man."

"At the house. They're at the house."

"What are we doing here, then? Get in the limousine, now."

"Ahem- Welcome, mister Maellard."

"Yeah, yeah, you too, Beancan" the eldest closes the door shut as the thin boss gets on the middle of the seat, wriggling uncomfortable. Benson feels the stink of Scotch and cuban thick cigars. "I- It's Benson, sir" he mutters; the engine roars. "I won't be present during the dinner, as you asked me to."

-

Inside the house, an ambience of low lights and cooked food smell spreads from the living room to the bedrooms in the upper store.

Rigby slicks his hair with gel and goes down the stairways winking at Thomas and smiling weirdly, Skips skips with a font full of chicken with red sauce and leans it down on the table saying good-bye for the night. He glances past Mordecai who smells of expensive cologne.

"Going anywhere?"

"Yeah, gotta see a friend tonight. You, Skips?"

"My annual ritual and sacrifice for the gods of youth. You better stay away from my house."

"Ha ha! Gotcha" Mordecai pulls at the neck of his shirt. 

The door of the lobby opens before he can say anything else letting Pops' father and Benson in, with respective moody faces. Rigby distracts the eldest waving at him speaking in old english as Pops laughs, while Mordecai takes Benson by the hand as no one sees them, closing the door behind him and making him run. The shadows grow tall under the pale moonlight through the Park's ways.

-

They embrace every minute under the starry sky of the Park as the late night mellow cradles them, sound of crickets singing, lurking near the bushes around them  
just like out of a fairy tale.

Lullabies, a cold breeze that tingles their skin, they get goose bumps. Mordecai just wraps him between his warm arms and brings him closer until Benson can feel his heart beat against his back. The cuddle is so good and comfortable that he gives in quickly, feeling dizzy and closing his eyes, putting his head back falling in deep tranquility.

"Pretty chill, huh?"

Benson smiles. "Back in my days we had acid, but, Mordecai, this stuff is nuts" the man chuckled. "Holy crap, I can't feel my fingers" he wriggled waving his small hands and tangling them with Mordecai's, going silent as he does so. "I- um..." 'Shit' he mutters between gritted teeth. "Sorry I yelled at you earlier."

"Hey, it's okay."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, man, just relax" he grinds against Benson and the boss can totally feel his hard-on -at which bump he gasps, going red. Not the kind of red of anger though, but more of a pink shade spreading through his cheeks and nose that won't go away. "I won't hurt you."

Benson tries to turn but the shoulders and arms around him are too tight.

"Close your eyes."

A nervous laugh. "What?"

"You're safe now, close your eyes," he pushed his lips into his ear. He knew Benson was huffing, heart beating fast at the thought of one of his workers in this kind of situation. He just couldn't picture it with anyone else but Mordecai, the indie music listener, the chill guy -not a slacker, a really chill guy. Fun to be with, relaxing. Warm. And then there he was, just ordering them around in the second plane of a reality that he didn't feel he quite fit in, just watching Mordecai and Rigby have fun, being themselves. Being friends. He sunk in the embrace trying to gain something that was not inside him, self confidence, tranquility. He closed his eyes.

"You're amazing."

"Thanks" Benson worded weakly, enough to be heard.

"No, no, I mean it. If there weren't people like you in this world, I wouldn't even bother waking up in the morning."

"You want a raise or what?"

"Just nothing, I'm dizzy" Mordecai smiles. "I can't believe I just said that."

"I'm a jerk."

"Shut up."

"N-no, I really am, I always-" Mordecai stops him from wording the rest of the phrase putting his lips on top of his boss' nose, then drawing to approach his mouth. They kiss, despite the cold making the hair on their arms stand on end and all the thoughts riffling through their loud minds, the lights of the house in the distance brightening the atmosphere.

Hushed, time stops when Mordecai looks at Benson's eyes. He simply smiles.

"You can't deny something you ignore."

"I can" Benson answers back, "and you forgot to turn off the attic's lamp. Jerk."

 

 

-

 

 

 


End file.
